Making Our Way
by puppyloveclub
Summary: The New Directions are on their way to Nationals, but Lauren may not be part of the fun.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Lauren slams her locker shut loudly. "Whoa, careful, Zizes!" she hears Puck call before she can see him. It's just after 3:00 and the hallways of McKinley are already dark and deserted.

"God knows this school doesn't have the money to replace a locker than has been _dominated_." He approaches her, grinning, and instinctively leans in to kiss her cheek softly. She just nods, clearly not really listening to him. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. My wrestling coaches just pulled me into their office to tell me I'm competing at Districts."

Puck's face lights up immediately. "That's so awesome, baby!" he nearly shouts, as he pulls her close to him. "But why do you seem sad?"

Lauren gets out of the embrace to pick up her bag from the floor at their feet. She avoids eye contact by pretending to look for something in the large messenger bag and quickly explains, "The meet is Saturday." His big grin drops into a grimace. "So that means," she continues, "I have to choose between Districts and Nationals. Wrestling or Glee Club." She sighs and gestures to the choir room with her head. They slowly start walking to rehearsal.

The New Directions have been intensely preparing for Nationals since they won Regionals in March, and the competition is this Sunday. Show Choir Nationals takes place every year on Memorial Day weekend. Choirs from around the country will be making their way to New York to compete for the coveted title.

"Can't you do both?" Puck asks with hope in his voice.

Lauren shakes her head. "The meet won't be over 'til after noon on Saturday. You guys are leaving Friday after school," she says, "Mr. Schuester is making a big deal about getting there early enough to rehearse and 'take in the magic of the Great White Way' whatever the fuck _that_ means. There's no way he'd be willing to wait until Saturday afternoon. No way."

Puck just nods empathetically. He is quieter than normal. About ten feet outside of the choir room, Lauren grabs his hand to stop him. "Don't tell them, okay? I just don't want it to turn into a big discussion where all of them think they can tell me what to do. Like with Rachel's nose. I'm going to figure it out. I'll make my choice and talk to Mr. Schue and that'll be it."

She exhales slowly again and shakes her head one more time. "Not that it's much of a choice. I committed to the wrestling team a long time ago. And this is _show choir_." She drenches those two words in exaggerated disdain, adding, "Plus, with Kurt back, you guys don't really _need_ me."

"Lauren," he whispers, moving closer to her. "That's…"

"You guys coming in?" Mr. Schuester interrupts from the doorway.

Lauren doesn't move her eyes from Puck and answers, "Yeah. Sorry. We're coming." They stare at each other for just a moment longer and Lauren drops his hand, walking quickly into the choir room. He follows close behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Lauren pushes open the large glass doors at the back of McKinley's gymnasium and strolls out into the humid Saturday afternoon. She had won. She was moving onto state, but she didn't care as much as she thought she would.

"Nice moves, hot stuff!" someone shouts from the pack of vehicles parked to her right. Noah Puckerman was leaning against his old pickup truck.

"What the hell are you doing here, Puckerman?" she yells to him, moving in his direction, "Did you miss the bus?"

"No, I didn't miss the bus, Zizes," he laughs, snapping open the back hatch of the black truck and lifting himself up to sit on it. "Bertha and I will be escorting you to New York City this evening. I got permission from Mr. Schue."

"I don't know if Bertha is up for the trip," she says, a wide grin across her face, "What's that?"

Puck hands her a silver CD with the words, "Puck hearts Lauren" written across it in permanent marker. He made her a mix.

She chuckles hard, "Aw, as cute as this is, Puckerman, I think you're supposed to _draw_ a heart, not write the word 'heart.'"

"Well," Puck reaches up and scratches the back of his mohawk, awkwardly, "I burned like 3 other copies of it and tried to draw the heart but it didn't look good. It's just something I never really learned to do. Then, I ran out of CDs."

Smiling, she examines it closely, then narrows her eyes and raises her gaze to meet his. "Tell me the truth, Noah Puckerman, how many songs on this CD are about my ass?"

He makes an exaggerated noise to express his outrage but his failed attempt to conceal a smile gives him away. "Five. Six at the most."

"You're such an asshole," she laughs and punches his upper arm gently. Gently for her. He takes advantage of her proximity and pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her back as she stands between his knees.

"I hear you were awesome in there this morning," he whispers into her hair, loving her scent, even after a wrestling match.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. That guy was not expecting me." She pulls back just enough to grin slyly at him and exclaim in a sarcastic tone, "I'm surprised I didn't see you in there!"

Puck rolls his eyes. He was no longer allowed to watch Lauren wrestle, and not because it made her nervous or distracted her. The Ohio High School Wrestling Association had banned him from meets after a few incidents of aggression and what they referred to as "unnecessary trash talk" in the stands. His name is on a list.

She glances over his shoulder. "Wait, is that my suitcase?"

"Yeah," he says, "I talked to your mom about this plan yesterday. She packed some stuff for you. Did you think I was going to be smuggling you across state borders?"

"Do I seem like a girl that could be smuggled?" she questions, raising one eyebrow.

"Hell no," he admits, "but I am prepared for an adventure." He pulls a big white cooler from behind his back, opening it to reveal a variety of snacks and drinks chilling in ice. "It's a long drive, so we should get going. We'll be there by 10 or so tonight. Finn has already been texting me. I guess Artie snuck a bottle of rum onto the bus in his wheelchair bag."

Lauren shakes her head slowly, "Staying true to that sobriety pledge…"

"Mr. Schue is all distracted by Ms. Pillsbury. What a terrible chaperone choice," he snickers, then adds enthusiastically, "They're going to try to get into a bar tonight."

Lauren throws her wrestling bag into the back and he jumps to the ground in one quick movement. He heads for the driver's door as she climbs into the passenger side.

Before they've even reached the highway, it starts to drizzle. Lauren pushes the CD into the CD player in the dashboard. Within three notes of the first song, she has lost some faith in Puck. Rebecca Black's "Friday" blasts from the speakers.

"Seriously?" She makes a face at him that would scare weaker boys off. He laughs.

"You seemed to enjoy my performance at Prom! Just because I was on stage doesn't mean I didn't see you rocking out and having fun, fun, fun, fun." She rolls her eyes but doesn't deny it.

"Okay, Puckerman, let's see what's next." She reaches forward and pushes the button.

_Oh, my, god. Becky, look at her butt. It is so big._

_She looks like, one of those rap guys' girlfriends._

"I thought you were kidding! "Baby Got Back"?" she exclaims, "You are obsessed!"

Puck shoots her a cocky grin and leans back, his left hand at the top of the steering wheel. "You could say I'm a not-so-secret admirer. But don't worry. I don't have a one-track mind, Lauren… There just aren't enough pop songs about boobs!"

She thumps his right knee quickly and he instinctively pulls to his left, even though he's still smiling.

"What a romantic…" She shakes her head.

"I should tell you," he says, "From here, it just goes into hardcore rap."

"You're fucking kidding me!" She jerks forward to skip to the next song. But this one is not related to her curves.

"Is this Stevie Nicks?" she asks him.

"And Don Henley. 'Leather and Lace,'" he pauses for a moment, "I heard it for the first time during the Fleetwood week and… it makes me think of us." They sit and listen for a few moments.

_I have my own life and I am stronger_

Than you know

_But I carry this feeling_

_When you walked into my house_

_That you won't be walking out the door_

As the male voice begins to sing, Lauren locks eyes with Puck, who now has a very serious look on his face.

_You in the moonlight_

_With your sleepy eyes_

_Could you ever love a man like me?_

She unbuckles her seatbelt and slides across the bench seat until their sides are touching. Linking her left arm around his right bicep, she reaches down to hold his hand.

_Lovers forever, face to face_

_My city or mountains_

_Stay with me stay_

_I need you to love me_

_I need you to stay_

_Give to me your leather _

_Take from me my lace_

Lauren rests her head on his shoulder and he turns slightly to kiss her forehead. Neither of them say anything for a while. They just watch the road as the windshield wipers move in perfect rhythm to the song.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lauren is pulled from a sound slumber by the sensation of fingertips pulling on her earlobe. She grumbles some noises and leans against the cold window to her right.

"Come on, Zizes!" Puck says to her, "Wake up! I'm so bored!"

"Sleeping. Will break balls," she mumbles the minimum amount of words necessary to express her intentions without opening her eyes.

"Please?" he responds and tries to tickle her side with one of his hands. He hasn't figured out yet that tickling doesn't work on her. She mostly finds it annoying. She is also annoyed by the fact that Puck's arms are long enough that he can reach her from the other side of the car, but she can't reach him without moving a lot. Damn those perfectly chiseled arms.

"Help me stay awake," Puck pleads.

Lauren reluctantly opens her eyes and starts to move. It's just after four in the afternoon, but this rain is making it seem much later.

"_One_ of us had to get up early today and wrestle all morning. And that one of us is not you, Puckerman."

"I know, but I've been driving for hours now and the state of Ohio is boring as hell." He yawns while he continues, "I've heard that CD three times."

"Where are we?" Lauren asks him, looking out her window.

"Just crossed into Pennsylvania. We still have a long-ass way to go."

"Geez, Grandma. Don't be afraid of that gas pedal," she teases.

"Let's play a driving game," he grins at her deviously, "How about 'Truth or Dare'?"

"Are you a 12-year-old girl?" she asks bluntly. "Why not 'Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board'?"

"I don't know what those words mean…Wait, did you just say 'stiff'?"

She glosses past that last comment and questions him, "Are you trying to find out all my darkest secrets?"

"Mostly, I'm hoping to get you to flash a trucker," he admits.

She scoffs loudly. "What kind of girl do you think I am? I mean, maybe I'd _moon_ a trucker, but this dreary weather doesn't offer the best lighting for that."

She expects him to laugh but he doesn't. "Don't even tease me like that, Zizes. I'll never sleep again." He sighs deeply then adds, "I'll go first."

"Alright," she smiles, "truth or dare?"

"Truth," he decides.

Lauren rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth in disapproval. She crosses her arms to think for a moment. "Who are the best and worst kissers in Glee Club?"

"Present company excluded?" he shoots her a crooked smirk.

"_For the sake of the game_," she emphasizes to keep him from getting too cocky, "we will say yes. Present company excluded."

"Well, I can only tell you about the girls," he points about.

"HA!" she interjects so that he knows she doesn't believe him.

"Best: Brittany. Being from another planet, she has no sense of shame or reality, really. It pretty much means she's a freak. Worst is Santana. She was obsessed with turning all the lights off, blasting Ani DiFranco, and _insisted_ I let her spray me with some fruity perfume."

"Interesting choices…" Lauren ponders, trying to unweave the experiences Puck had lived but never paid attention.

"Speaking of _the devil_," he emphasizes to make an easy joke, "Finn texted me a while ago. I guess Santana stole her sister's ID and they used it at a liquor store while Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury were out at the American Museum of Financial History. Seriously. That exists."

"Sounds like a wild night is in store for everyone," she mockingly responds. Puck just nods, not identifying her sarcasm. Sometimes she wonders how the Glee kids are able to constantly top their own bad decisions. God knows Mr. Schue won't be running out of tear-filled song-lectures any time soon.

He interrupts her thoughts, almost yelling, "Your turn!"

Lauren unbuckles her seatbelt to readjust herself in the old truck's seat.

"Hey there," he playfully winks at her and stretches his arm out to put his hand on the headrest behind her, "You coming over by me?"

Lauren laughs hard and pushes his shoulder then refastens the belt. As much as she would love to, she knows this "unbuckling her seatbelt to get closer to him" game is a slippery slope.

"I'm just getting ready. Hit me with a dare," she smirks.

"Ohh, baby wants a dare!" Puck moves his hand from the headrest to the back of her neck and gently scoops her hair off to one side. Trying to keep one eye on the road, he pauses for a moment to run his thumb over the soft, pale skin behind her ear.

Regaining his composure, he begins, "Okay, I dare you to—"

"Wait, before you even say it, anything involving truckers is off the table. I don't want us getting followed for the next hundred miles by a 55-year-old bald man in overalls who wants to make me his 'old lady.'"

"Wait, you're not into that?" he feigns surprise. She swats his hand out of her hair.

"Okay, okay," he grins, "Here it is. I dare you to prank call Rachel. Pretend you are Barbra Streisand's personal assistant or something and that Barbra saw Rachel on the street in New York singing with her friends and she _insists_ Rachel come into her studio and lay down some tracks with her."

"That is just conniving enough for me to be entirely on board." Lauren picks up her phone and starts to dial. "Wait, won't she know my number?"

"*67 that shit!" he exclaims. She kind of loves when they work together to do bad things.

Puck just stares in amazement as Lauren pulls off the prank call flawlessly.

Snapping the phone shut, she laughs, "She totally bought it! She told me that she always sings extra loud when she is in Manhattan because 'you never know who is listening.' She didn't even ask how I found out who she is or how to contact her."

Lauren shakes her head in disgust then continues, "I guess Berry really thinks everyone knows her. _Ms. Streisand_ is supposed to call her later tonight to set up a meeting. The biggest flaw to this scheme is that we will have to deal with her massive depression when that call never comes through."

Puck nods seriously then breaks into a smile again, "Still worth it!" They both giggle and he says, "My turn again. Dare!" She watches him release another big yawn.

"Why don't you let me drive for a while?" she offers.

"No, no, I'm totally fine," he replies, squeezing her knee a little. "I don't think you could handle Bertha. She is a fine piece of American automobile."

"Don't be an idiot, Puckerman. I've driven big heaps of metal before, and Bertha will be no different," she says then adds, cunningly, "Really. I _dare_ you to let me drive."

"Sneaky move, Zizes," he admits, but, clearly tired, he changes lanes to make a right at the next exit.

Lauren makes a quick trip to freshen up in the restroom while Puck pumps some gas. When she emerges, he has disappeared into the gas station. She shuffles quickly through the rain, avoiding large puddles. It is really starting to come down hard.

Climbing into the driver's seat, she takes off her glasses and wipes them dry with the bottom of her shirt. She watches as Puck comes through the gas station door, the back of his shirt pulled up over his head as he runs through the rain. He opens the passenger side door and jumps in, his right hand held behind his back.

"Presents for the driver," he grins and brings his arm back around to the front. In his lap, he holds a large bag of Skittles and a shockingly neon green carnation. He hands the flower to Lauren and lies, "I picked it myself."

"Oh yeah?" she laughs, "Somewhere off of the Yellow Brick Road?" He just gawks at her, not understanding the reference. She leans in and kisses his pink lips softly.

"Oh, you just wait. There's one more thing," he says, grinning at her and leans forward to reach into the back pocket of his jeans.

She can smell it before she can see it. Puck hands her a pink, cherry-scented car air freshener with the words "Truckers Turn My Engine" in big black letters, surrounded by glittery hearts.

She stares at him for almost half a minute, driving him crazy with suspense. Finally, she says, "Three things. One, if you're planning to display that in here, I am walking. Two: Have you considered the impact that thing could have on this 'bad boy of the road' thing you have going on here? And three," she smirks and points to the tacky item, "Would you look at those perfectly drawn hearts?"

Lauren reaches for the ignition and turns the key forcefully. Bertha produces a series of shrill noises before falling silent.

"Whoa, what the hell?" he howls, "You can't just. You gotta turn it like-" he reaches across her leg to push her hand out of the way and turn the engine on.

She glowers at him, "I could have figured it out, Puck."

They look at each other tensely for a moment, the old truck purring loudly as rain pounds against the hood and roof.

She breaks the stare-down and pulls the vehicle into gear. "Let's just get the fuck out of here."

They both jerk slightly in their seats as Lauren clumsily tries to get a handle of the old brakes. Puck sits back in his seat and sighs, buckling his own seatbelt.

Lauren's leg of the trip begins with about five minutes of complete silence. At one point, Puck's phone vibrates with a text message. As he reads it to himself, a big grin crosses his face and he chuckles as he puts the phone back in his pocket.

After another drawn out period of silence, Puck leans forward to turn some music on. He places the "Puck hearts Lauren" mix into the CD player and hurriedly skips through the first several songs, obviously seeking one in particular.

When he lets it play, she knows right away what song it is. There is a guitar then some folksy fiddle, and she groans. The bastard knows just how to get to her.

"Really? 'Wagon Wheel'?" she asks him, "Trying to make me forget that you're an ass by playing my favorite song?"

He doesn't respond or even look at her. He just starts softly singing along and leans back to relax against the headrest, watching the scenery out the window.

_So rock me mama like a wagon wheel_

_Rock me mama anyway you feel_

Hey mama rock me

_Rock me mama like the wind and the rain_

_Rock me mama like a south-bound train_

_Hey mama rock me_

Unable to help herself, Lauren starts to sing, too. Within a couple verses, she realizes she is the only one. Puck's voice has faded into soft, breathy snoring. She lowers her voice just slightly and continues onto the refrain.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A loud clash of thunder rouses Puck from his nap. He looks at Lauren disoriented, not expecting the torrential rain and powerful winds that are blowing the truck back and forth. Lauren is concentrating hard on the road. Her knuckles white, hands glued at ten and two.

"You alright?" Puck asks her.

"Not really. This shit is really coming down," she replies, squinting at the darkness in front of her.

Puck sighs and shakes his head. "You should have woke me up."

"Why?" she asks defensively, "Do you have the ability do make it stop raining?"

"No, but I should be driving," he says.

Lauren scoffs his misogyny as a long streak of lightning ignites the whole sky in front of them.

"It's really bad," she says as the horizon returns to darkness, "We should just pull over somewhere. This wind is crazy." She unglues her eyes from the road for a moment to gage his reaction, but his face is pointed out his window.

"It's fine. We're fine," he says haughtily, "Pull into that rest stop."

Unsure of his plan, Lauren merges into the right lane and exits, coming to a halt in the parking lot outside an old Pennsylvania rest stop. The lot is crowded with cars of travelers who have given into the storm.

She shuts off the engine and sits back in her seat, finally relaxing her arms. As she turns to Puck, he swings open his door and jumps out into the rain, slamming it behind him. Confused, Lauren follows him with her eyes as he sprints around the front of the truck to her door. He tries to open it, but it's locked. Tired and disoriented, Lauren just looks at him through her window for a moment.

"Lauren!" he shouts, "Open the door!"

She lifts up the lock and inches open the door. He pulls it the rest of the way hurriedly and comes close to her. "Scoot over."

Lauren shakes her head in disapproval and awkwardly slides into the passenger side of the bench seat. Drenched from just a few moments out of the car, Puck climbs all the way into the driver's seat and turns the engine on.

Lauren puts her hand gently on his right arm. "Seriously, why don't we just wait a while?" He moves the arm to adjust the rear-view mirror.

"Nah, let's just keep going," he replies as he throws the car into reverse and backs out of the parking space. Another loud clash of thunder rattles the windows. Lauren sighs and sits back in her seat.

Fifteen miles later, the weather is no better. Lauren swears it is even getting worse, as the bolts of lighting and booms of thunder get more and more frequent and the wind blows the rain horizontally into their windshield.

"This is insane, Puckerman," Lauren says forcefully as she watches out the passenger window.

"It's just a little rain, Zizes," he says coldly.

She cocks her head and tells him crossly, "I'm confused. Are you a badass? Or just a dumbass? This is because Jacob Ben Israel said I have your balls, isn't it?"

Lauren's cell phone rings loudly before he can respond. "Tina" she reads and hits a button to answer it, "Hello, from my personal Hell."

Puck looks at her just long enough to roll his eyes then returns his concentration to the road.

"Yeah, we are still in Pennsylvania, like 5 hours away. Probably more. It's storming really bad, but Evel Knievel refuses to stop." As Tina talks, Lauren looks at Puck, but he doesn't react.

Suddenly, he waves his hand in Lauren's face, keeping his eyes on the beam of light created by the headlights in front of them. "Is she with Mike? Let me talk to him."

Swatting his hand away, she tells Tina, "He wants to know if you're with Mike Chang." Listening to the long-winded response, Lauren covers the mouthpiece and tells Puck "He just went down to Artie and Kurt's room."

"Tell her to tell him to include me in whatever booze they get for tonight," he instructs Lauren, "I prefer whiskey, but I'll drink any liquor they can get." Lauren rolls her eyes and shoos him with her hand. She says goodbye to Tina without ever passing along the drink order.

"It's almost 9, Puck. There's no way we're making it there in time for any of that," she says to him.

Again, he doesn't respond, just shifts from his left to his right hand on the top of the steering wheel. She feels the truck pick up some speed. She can hear the wind pushing at the windows.

Lauren ejects the mix from the CD player and turns the radio dial. She keeps it on a station broadcasting ominous beeps.

"The National Weather Service has issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning for all counties of Central Pennsylvania" Lauren looks at Puck pleadingly and continues to listen intently, "Much of the area has seen flash-flooding this evening and there have been reports of funnel clouds across Pennsylvania. Drivers are recommended to pull over and seek shelter. Do not stay on the roads if not absolutely necessary."

Lauren feels a moment of relief, certain he must be convinced to stop.

"It's fine. I can drive in this," he says, like he's trying to assure himself.

"Did you seriously not hear that?" she nearly yells at him, tears in her voice.

"Lauren," he tells her, reaching across the seat to pat her knee, "We have to keep going. We are going to get there tonight."

She pulls away from him and leans against the window. "I am so not willing to die in the name of Show Choir."

Puck doesn't say anything, just shakes his head again, never making eye contact.

"This is all about the party tonight, isn't it?" she adds. The question lingers in the air for a long time.

This silence is the loudest of their argument. After a minute or two, they both notice blue and red flashing lights breaking through the darkness up ahead. Flares line the sides of the road and the few cars left driving are slowing down.

When they get close enough to see, they realize that two police cars are blocking the road up ahead and a policeman in a rain slicker is directing vehicles towards an exit.

When they reach him, Puck cranks down his window. Immediately water starts to splash into the truck.

"What's going on?" he asks the policeman.

"Trees down on the road up ahead," he shouts back through the wind, "The road's closed until the crew and can come in and clear it out."

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Puck asks the man.

"Son, there is no reason to be driving in this," he pauses, "The road should be cleared by morning. Hopefully, the storm will let up."

Puck nods to him and quickly rolls he window back up. "Fuck!" he yells the moment it is closed. He signals to change lanes and follow the remaining drivers off of the highway.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Lauren drops her duffle bag to the floor and flops down on a squeaky, antique bed. She inhales deeply, taking in the room. She hears a key in the lock and Puck pushes the door open forcibly. He takes a few steps into the musty motel room and drops his bag on the ground at his feet. He looks at Lauren; just stares, defeat in his eyes. She stares back. She never thought their first night in a hotel would look like this.

There is a loud knock at the door. Puck opens it to reveal Mrs. Knox, the proprietor of Knox Nights Motel, standing there. She is a small woman. Probably in her early 60's, but possibly aged by long work nights and chain-smoking, she is no taller than 4'10". Lauren is certain she could carry her around without breaking a sweat. Mrs. Knox is smoking a long cigarette and holding a jumpy schnauzer that matches the one embroidered onto her oversized sweatshirt.

They had to do some sweet-talking to get her to rent a room to two 17-year-olds with no credit cards. They tried explaining that the highway was closed and that the police were saying it wouldn't open until morning. Since they were plainly in the middle of nowhere, their options were very limited.

Maybe she felt bad for them. Maybe she sensed the tension between them and doubted there would be any illegitimate children created tonight beneath the 1960s Chenille bedspread. Most likely, she needed the cash. The parking lot was basically empty. Evidently, the Knox Nights isn't a popular tourist spot for Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. It is the kind of whole-in-the-wall place you only see in movies, and those are usually horror movies. In real life, the Knox Nights is a complete sensory experience; full of sounds, sensations, and smells they won't soon be forgetting.

Mrs. Knox smiles at Puck, from the hallway, and hands him a small stack of dingy white towels. "You'll be needing these. Check out's at 11:30." She pauses, looks him up and down before adding, "No funny business," and winking crudely.

"We'll be long gone," Puck says impersonally. Mrs. Knox lets the dog jump from her arms and the long ash of her cigarette falls to the ground. She turns to follow the dog down the hallway and the door shuts softly.

"You think she'd bum me a smoke?" Lauren jokes to Puck, "It's been a long night." He nods uncomfortably and grabs a bottle of water out of his bag before walking directly to the window.

"I called Mr. Schuster," Lauren tells him, "Told him about the storm and the road and that we should meet them at the competition tomorrow." She pauses then adds, "It's a good thing we brought our costumes separately." Again, Puck just nods. He stands at the window for a long time, watching the sky flash from black to orange as a river current makes its way past his truck in the parking lot below.

Lauren lies awake in the extremely uncomfortable queen-sized bed. She is buried under too many layers of sheets and blankets, but worse than that, she is alone under them. They are both in the bed, mainly because it is the only piece of furniture in the room and the orange carpet is covered in Virginia Slim ashes and curly black dog hair. Apparently, Mrs. Knox isn't a big believer in vacuuming.

Lauren wants to sleep. It's after midnight. She is tired and there is no need to be awake. But she can't. Not with this tension.

She knows Puck is awake beside her. He rolls to his side, facing away from her. He is on top of the covers, fully clothed, shoes and all. He looks like he is ready to get up and run at any second. The day had started so well.

She clears her throat and sits up. "Look, I'm sorry you didn't make it to the party." She is intending to sound apologetic but her go-to voice is biting. She adds, "I'm sure they'll do it again sometime soon. We're teenagers living in Lima, Ohio. All we have is stolen liquor and bowling."

"You just don't get it, Lauren," he says quickly.

"Oh, and Wal-Mart," Lauren continues her last thought and then realizes that that was the first thing he's really said to her in hours.

He sits up suddenly, "It's not about drinking, Lauren. If the Puck wants booze, the Puck can get booze." She just squints at him, trying to understand what is going on. You'd think she would be used to it, but his third person speeches still throw her off.

"I failed," he pauses, and looks away from her, "I failed at getting you there in time to be _really_ there, in New York, as part of the team. This fucking road trip from hell has been a promise to you that I'm going to make sure you can wrestle _and_ be in New Directions, but here we are, missing out on everything that they are doing." He punches the bed between them suddenly. Shaking his head, he continues hurriedly, "Maybe that Jacob kid is right; I'm weak. I can't even drive in a fucking storm." He sighs and lies back down, folding his arms under his head on the pillow. "And now we are stuck in this piece of shit motel."

Lauren kicks the covers down below her feet and lies closer to him. She turns onto her side, facing him with her head propped up under her arm.

"It's not that bad," she tells him.

"What are you talking about? It think I saw a meth deal go down in the lobby."

She puts her hand on his chest and shifts slightly closer to him, repeating more quietly, "It's _not_ that bad."

Lauren senses Puck's mood change as his body relaxes and he rotates slightly to be facing her. Grinning, he tells her, "I have been meaning to get you into a hotel room."

"I can't imagine a more picturesque getaway," she laughs as she moves close enough for their whole bodies to be in contact. As she curls into the nook where his neck meets his chest, he kicks off his shoes and raises his fingers to graze the hair framing her face. When a massive boom of thunder shakes the whole room, Lauren lets slip a subtle gasp just as Puck leans in to kiss her deeply. She catches her breath and runs her hand across his cheek, while he holds her close.

"I really thought maybe you were regretting volunteering to be my escort," she whispers to him as he looks into his eyes.

"Are you kidding me?" he says, "I wish I had to drive with you to Nationals in L.A.!"

"Ooo," she jokes, "Entirely different weather disasters on that route. We'd be dealing with earthquakes, maybe a mudslide or a wildfire."

"Bertha could handle it," he boasts.

"That is a high-quality vehicle you have, Puckerman... She better start in the morning."

"Oh, she will," he says assuredly, "She'll bring us anywhere you want to go, baby." He lifts her chin from his chest and places a series of soft kisses on her lips and neck, each one longer and more intense than the last.

Puck smiles and says, "I'll make the mixes, you can draw the hearts, and we will take turns behind the wheel."

Lauren smiles, "I'm down."

"I'm sorry that I didn't get you there tonight," he tells her.

"Honestly, Puckerman," she laughs a little as she talks, "As much shit as I talk about the Glee kids, I do like being part of the club. But I'd estimate 90% of that is because I like hanging out with you. You know… to make you do stuff."

He pulls her a little closer and focuses his kisses on her neck, stopping to ask, "And the other 10%?"

Without hesitating, she answers, "Mr. Schue's rap skills."

He laughs then returns his attention to her jaw line and that spot just behind her ear that they both seem to like oh so much.

She pushes him away for a moment and says, "Also, let's be realistic. If we were there now, in _that_ hotel, we'd probably just be making out in a maid's closet somewhere."

He nods in agreement and returns his attention to her lips. As the kiss deepens, Lauren feels Puck's hand slowly making its way up the front of her shirt as he shifts to be kneeling over her.

"Hey, buddy," she says, into his kiss, breaking their lips apart. Not fazed by the obstacle, Puck travels over to her right ear, gently nibbling it. "I believe you heard Mrs. Knox's 'No Funny Business' rule," Lauren teases, adding, "I could get you thrown out of this joint for moves like that."

"Oh, don't worry about her," he says softly as his lips trace a line down her neck then chest, "I told her I'd be in to take care of her later."

She laughs for a second and pushes his head slightly off its course down her abdomen. He pauses to grin mischievously at her and says, "But I don't know if I'll make that appointment."

Lauren leans her head back on the pillow and smiles to herself. The Knox Nights might be looking up after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Lauren opens her eyes slowly and realizes that yesterday wasn't a dream. She is actually in bed in a shifty motel in Pennsylvania. She blinks at the alarm clock next to her. It is 7:30a.m. Where she is expecting a mohawked boy to be snuggled up behind her she finds only a note. Actually, it is a receipt from a gas station that has surely been crumpled up in his pocket for days or years. Across it he wrote, "_Helping Mrs. Knox_," and drew a smiley face.

"Jackass…" she laughs to herself as she deciphers the rest of the scribbles.

"_Get your sweet ass down here when you're ready. –Noah Puckerman_"

She loves that he signed it. Who else is it going to be? The damn schnauzer?

She jumps out of bed and opens the blinds. Sunshine.

"Thank god," she says aloud to herself. She showers and gets ready quickly, knowing there will be no other time to primp before they perform. After packing up her few belongings, she heads out the door and towards the lobby. Before she turns the corner into the larger room, she can smell bacon cooking and hear Mrs. Knox loudly humming the theme from _The Love Boat_.

She chokes slightly at the sight that awaits her. Puck is sitting at a long table with Mrs. Knox's dog sleeping soundly in his lap. On the table in front of him is a large breakfast feast.

He smiles gorgeously at her, "Good morning, baby."

"Good morning," she can't help but laugh at this scene as she takes the seat next to him.

Mrs. Knox emerges from what must be the kitchen and, upon seeing Lauren, grins widely.

"Oh, Lauren, honey, I'm so glad you're up before the food gets cold. Noah made the French toast. Did you know he cooks?"

Lauren looks at Puck for a moment in shock then back to Mrs. Knox, "No, ma'am, I had no idea."

"Yes, he told me all about your competition today, for…" she looks at Puck for confirmation, "Show…choir?" He nods at her. "I just couldn't let you two leave here without a proper breakfast," she explains.

She sets a large platter of scrambled eggs on the table and instructs them, "Dig in!"

Awakened by the smell of the food, the schnauzer stirs in Puck's lap.

"Here, Trudy!" Mrs. Knox shouts to her, "Let these kids eat!"

The dog jumps from Puck's arms and disappears under the table. Lauren shakes her head and grins at Puck again, still in disbelief. He smiles back looking slightly self-conscious and scoots his chair closer to her. Leaning over to kiss the side of her neck, he whispers, "Dig in, Zizes."

After a huge breakfast, they both start gathering their bags to start the rest of the drive. Mrs. Knox looks legitimately sad that they're leaving.

"Maybe you can stop in again," she posits, "on your way back home."

"Yeah," Puck appeases her, but he's looking at Lauren, "That would be really nice."

The tiny woman hugs them both at once, pushing them tightly together and then sends them out the door.

Each carrying their own bags, they make their way towards the only car left in the parking lot.

"Did the hotel from hell just turn into my grandma's house on a Sunday morning?" Lauren asks Puck as they reach his truck.

"Yes, it did," he answers with a chuckle and suddenly freezes somberly as he opens the driver side door. "But seriously, Lauren. You can't tell anyone about the French toast. Badasses don't make breakfast. And that's my Nana's family recipe."

"Oh, don't worry, Puckerman," she tells him as she climbs into the passenger side and buckles herself in, "It's locked in the vault… but I do charge interest."

Puck starts the truck's engine and reaches over to run his hand up and down Lauren's left thigh. He looks her in the eyes and says, "I'm sure we can come up with some sort of a payment plan."

She liked Puck the morning after a fight. She takes a mental note to pick more in the future.

Puck puts the car in gear and they head back towards the highway in silence, each separately praying that the road is open. When they find that it is, Puck sits back in his seat and relaxes his hand on the wheel.

"Music?" he asks her. She leans forward to put the "Puck hearts Lauren" mix back into the CD player. He grins at her, "Play something good."

Lauren skips several tracks and then lets it play. When he recognizes what song she picked, his smile gets bigger. The Cure's "Just Like Heaven" blasts from the trucks scratchy speakers. They both sing along at full volume, gesturing theatrically and they dance along.

"_Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick,_

_The one that makes me scream", she said._

"_The one that makes me laugh", she said,_

_Threw her arms around my neck._

"_Show me how you do it? And I'll promise you,_

_I'll promise that I'll run away with you, I'll run away with you"_

Lauren reached across the seat the grab his left hand, which is tapping the song's rhythm into his knee. Their eyes lock for a moment and return their eyes to the road and continue the song.

_You,_

_Soft and only._

_You,_

_Lost and lonely._

_You,_

_Just like heaven._

The second the song ends Puck lets go of Lauren's hand and leans forward to switch the music off. He angles his body towards her, breathes deeply and says, "I have to tell you something." Glancing quickly back and forth a few times between her and the road in front of him, he continues, "This is something that I've never said to anyone before and really meant it. You can't laugh at me, Zizes."

She is thrown off by the gravity of his tone. "Okay…" she says quietly, after a pause. In her head, she can't believe that he's doing this. They have not been dating long enough to throw around the word "love." They're in high school, for god's sake. She blames it on all these sappy songs Mr. Schue has them singing.

Before she can prepare her reaction, he blurts out, "You're my best friend, Lauren." She can't help but release half a giggle, but she lets him finish. "I mean, you're obviously more than that, too, but," he hesitates, looking strangely nervous. "I've never had someone in my life who let's me just be myself and challenges me to be better at the same time."

Lauren smiles at him across the truck as he looks at her for a reaction. Giving in to the temptation this one time, she unbuckles her seatbelt and scoots over to him. He reaches his right arm out to pull her in, close to his side. She stretches up and kisses his cheek, just below his ear.

Bending his elbow around the back of her neck, Puck points as they pass a sign that says, _New York City: 200 miles_.

"Wanna take the long way or the short way, Zizes? I hear Atlantic City is just _lovely_ this time of year."

Lauren squeezes his leg with her left hand and answers, "I'm not scared of much, Puckerman, but if we keep Rachel Berry from competing at Nationals, I have no doubt she'd kick both of our asses."


End file.
